


Like You Hate Me

by SolarPoweredFlashlight



Category: League of Legends
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 11:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16831729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarPoweredFlashlight/pseuds/SolarPoweredFlashlight
Summary: Katarina has no interest in sleeping with enemies of Noxia. Definitely not. Whoever told you that is a liar.





	Like You Hate Me

A bead of sweat rolls down Katarina’s spine.

She grunts as the heavy blade of her opponent strikes hard against the two knives she’s raised to defend herself; her arms start to collapse, but she rallies her strength before the edge reaches her throat.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me, Noxian,” Irelia hisses, standing too close, refusing to turn her eyes away. “It disgusts me.”

“You disgust me,” Katarina snaps, whipping her leg out and kicking hard, aiming to get her right between her ugly thighs. Irelia brings a leg up and twists as she does, intercepting the blow and sending her off balance.

“You like this,” Irelia insists, bringing another one of her blades surging around, smirking at the sharp note it makes as it clangs off the knife Katarina smoothly uses to deflect it.

“I’ll like it a lot more when you’re lying on the ground in a – “ Katarina lunges, the strike gets knocked off to the side, “- in a pool of blood!”

“Want me on my back do you?” Irelia purrs, and a rush of goosebumps pulse up Katarina’s back and arms at the tone. “You’ll have to work a little harder to earn that.” The Noxian sets her face into a hateful sneer, but deep down she knows what this is leading to.

Katarina flies into a rage, lashing out with cut after cut, ferocity in each blow, fury at each deft dismissal.

Her leathers are soon sticky with sweat. Irelia won’t stop fucking smirking at her. Kat can’t land a single blow. She’s too fast, too skilled, too focused. It’s infuriating. It’s unfair. It’s deeply arousing.

She’s panting, still fighting the Ionian, still fighting her desire, when they’re interrupted.

“Get away from her,” snarls a voice from behind Katarina’s back. It’s Riven. Thank Noxus, her stupid girlfriend is finally here to put an end to this nonsense. She’ll have to ravish her tonight as thanks for saving her from doing something stupid.

A rough hand grabs Kat’s shoulder and yanks her away from Irelia and reality comes crashing in.

“I said _get away from her_ ,” Riven barks, putting herself between them.

Riven isn’t Kat’s anymore. She isn’t wearing anything but the pathetic tatters of her Noxian armor, she isn’t carrying anything but the pathetic tatters of her Noxian runesword, she isn’t anything to Katarina but the pathetic tatters of a relationship she left to go play dead and play house with this dumb corpse bitch.

“Easy,” Irelia murmurs, putting a hand on Riven’s arm.

Katarina’s grip tightens on her daggers. Maybe she’ll kill both of them.

Irelia catches her eye coldly. “What, does that provoke you, Noxian?” She slides her knuckles up and down Riven’s arm deliberately for Katarina to see.

Flame ignites inside of her. Hatred. Hunger.

“Would you rather be tag-teamed,” Irelia chuckles, brushing some hair out of Riven’s face while maintaining eye contact with Katarina, “or do you think you can handle a two on one?”

“Fuck you,” Katarina spits, and charges towards them. Maybe if she can decapitate that witch this will all be over.

Riven draws her broken sword in a swift motion and intercepts the attack; they clash together, face to face, straining against one another. Kat glares. Riven’s got her stupid poker face on.

“You’re defending _her_?” Katarina snaps. “I could have sworn you used to be more than just a collared guard dog.”

Riven meets her gaze fearlessly. Then, of all fucking things, she smiles. “I’ve missed you.”

_This_ throws Katarina. It hits her in one potent rush of irrational joy and want and longing and fear and anger.

Riven takes the opportunity to step back and position herself in her ready stance. Irelia does the same.

“What is this,” Katarina growls.

“What do you want it to be?” Riven asks evenly.

“Fuck you,” she answers, and lunges forward.

Kat is suddenly in top form, fighting with blinding speed and incomparable accuracy, driven by the whirlwind of emotions to become a whirlwind of blades. She dances with Riven and Irelia, keeping them both at bay, attacking one, dodging the other, their weapons singing a sharp, manic melody off of each other.

Sweat rolls down her back, down her front, down her face.

Each connecting blow seems to come with a hungry look from her enemies. She’s panting, but not just from exertion.

She kicks Riven in the hand and then with one strong wrench of her knives disarms her. She hurls herself at Riven and they both slam bodily into the ground. Finally she has the upper hand. The turncoat is pinned, Katarina has a knife to her neck, and –

And there is Irelia, pressed up against her back, her floating blade tickling beneath Katarina’s chin.

“What now?” Irelia whispers into Kat’s ear. Her blade stays steady at the Noxian’s throat, but she grinds her hips slowly against Katarina’s ass. Kat looks down at Riven, who doesn’t seem at all afraid that she might follow through with what her dagger is promising.

“I – ” she stutters. She makes the mistake of inhaling, losing herself to Riven’s scent.

The smell of Riven hasn’t changed in the slightest.

And then before she can stop herself she’s pressing their lips together, kissing her hard, kissing her savagely, tasting the _taste_ of Riven which also hasn’t changed in the slightest.

Riven’s rough, strong hands tangle in Kat’s hair.

Irelia’s mouth finds her neck, kissing, biting.

She’s trapped between the two of them.

Irelia’s hand wanders, stroking up her side, palming her breast, exploring, conquering, sampling shamelessly.

It slides lowers, starts unbuckling her pants.

She can’t stop kissing Riven, can’t bring herself to question how all of this feels so good, how they –

Katarina wakes up, breathing hard.

A bead of sweat rolls down her naked back.

It was a dream. That didn’t really happen.

No! Fuck!

She shuts her eyes and tries to go back to sleep. It doesn’t work.

She tries to forget about the vivid feeling of a mortal enemy pressed up against her back and a lying ex-lover pressed up against her front. It doesn’t work.

She squeezes her eyes shut and slips her hand between her legs.

Fuck, she is so wet.

Whatever, she’ll feel like an idiot in the morning.

She rubs the length of her middle finger against her clit and throws her head back into the pillow. Her mouth clamps shut. Her other hand wanders up her torso and settles on a nipple, stroking, pinching, toying.

She imagines it’s Irelia’s hand.

She strokes frantically with her fingers and envisions Riven’s face between her legs, her mouth hot and wet and soft and eager.

“Yeah, you like that,” murmurs the conjured Irelia of her imagination, pulling her head back roughly by the hair, biting hard at her jawline.

Kat exhales through her nose, rubs harder, faster.

She imagines looking down to find Riven looking back up at her, her eyes hungry, hungry for _her_. Dedicated, determined. Determined to make her come.

“That’s a good girl,” she imagines Irelia saying to Riven, “push her over the edge. I want to hear her scream.”

Ugh, fuck, she can feel shame for this stupid fantasy later. Fuck, she’s so close.

Katarina’s toes curl.

She fixates her mind on the scenario of being sandwiched between the two of them. She adds a detail – Irelia drawing the edge of a blade down her breast in a single, perfect line, leaving a tiny, perfect, barely-bleeding wound.

The detail throws her over the edge.

She comes. She comes hard.

Katarina shudders, tenses, trembles, sighs, relaxes.

She drifts easily back into sleep now that her inexplicable need has been sated.

She can hate herself for it in the morning.


End file.
